The Penn's Grove record., 1887-07-30

the only one who could properly be
regarded by him as the possible future
mistress OF Midhurst, his elegant coun-
try home. Like many other men, he
mlstook his admiration of her physical
beauty and his conception OF Fanny's
availability as the central ornament OF
his home for love. The fact is, he
sought her as he would an exquisite
copy OF an edition de luce of soma valu-
able book for his library. He had about
made up his mind to marry her, although
he had spent some days trying to deter.
mine whether Irene would not do as
well. He had, of course, viewed with
no little disturbance tie occasional
visits of Stanwooi to Concord Place.
At the Alderson's party, a few nights
before, he had walked the long gallery
with Fanny in the witchery of moon
light, and had vehemently asseverated
his love and had firmly believed that
she was conquered, although she with
drew her hand quickly from his and
said: mot yetFn-with some emotion.
This day, he believed, would crown his
heroic labors with success, and he only
sought an opportunity to new his
suit.
Stanwood had allowed himself little
hope, but cultivated much determine
ton. lie had found a very pleasure
able reciprocity Of tastes and opinion
in his acquaintance with Fanny. Their
differences were few and rather pleas
urably variant than hostilely so. He
had simply been in her presence what
he really was. He had nothing to con-
ceal; his righteousness pleased her.
And it did more. She felt an inde-
scribable pleasure in his presence,
feebly sought; but she did not press the
quest; she had an instructive dread of
doing SO. Then there was Renwick
Nichols. too. She liked him because
he amused her. She could not conceive
OF his really loving her or any other
woman; but yet he seemed as earnest
as he possibly could be. Sometimes
she thought he really fancied her sister
Irene-careless, unsentimental Irene,
who never could make a religion of
love, buS was content with attentions
and would break her heart over
anybody. The sisters differed rad1-
cally; that was the reason Fanny had
sald-"Not yet" when Renwlck leaned
yer her hand on that moonllt gallery,
half believing that the conquest was
easy.
There was a hilarious time at the
dinner, which was taken al ,fresco and
in all kinds Of attitudes; but it was ike
all such woodland dinners, and leaving
the elders chatting under the trees and
the fddlers drawing the dancers mer-
rlly to the changing figures again, we
will follow two of the guests down the
path to the spring and out on the sands
OF the bayou. They were. Renwick
Nichols and Fanny Chenard. Harry
Stanwood vas dancing with Irene
under the trees, Fanny looked back to
the gay dancers and saw him there.
The afternoon shadows slanted across
the bayou as Fanny and her companion
walked down to the ribbed beds of
sand, stopping occasionally to gather
flowers which cleaned from the banks
or to gather gay pebbles from beneath
their feet. almost in child fashion.
There was a delicious langour in the
air, which was laden with perfume OF
the great magnolia blossoms In the
woods above, and the two went along
in the alluring way, reach after reach,
wooed by fresh attractions as they
turned each bend.
"You said to me the other night"
remarked Renwick, as he carelessly bit
off the end Of a cigar, mot yet.' did you
mean that to-day was to be the limit of
mot yetp' Tell me. Miss Fanny"
"You seem to be very comfortable,
Mr.. Nichols, with a fate hanging yer
your head"
"But you have not answered my
FUNSTON"
81 have not"
"Will you answer it?"
ANSWER whatp"
"Oh. you know"
~ remember that night you talked
about loving me, and you said a good
many things l am sure you did not
mean."
"Will you not answer my question:"
SAID Mr.. Nichols, with some impa-
thence.
"What if l say mot yet AGAIN."
"Miss Chenard is capriclousl"
"Fot at alli'
81 tell you, Miss Fanny, that I love
you and would give my life for your;
Indeed l would. / am lonely at Mid
hurst, and"
us it because you are lonely at Mid
hurst that you want mep"
"No, don't be cruer'-and Mr..
Nichols bit his lip end switched the
sand off of his pretty little foot with
his riding whip. He was impatient,
and showed it.
Fanny smiled.
They walked along In silence for
some time, when her companion said:
81 believe it is gong to RAIN"
There was q sudden stiffness in the
air and a graylsh mist was creeping
over the sky; the shadows grew deeper
in the bayou and the greenery seemed
mourning for the withdrawn sun.
ave had better so back" said
Fanny.
just as she said this she felt her foot
ing to be insecure. A few steps more
and she felt herself sinking into the
sand, as if drawn by some invisible
hand.
"Oh, Mr.. Nichols, the quicksand!n
1t was a cry Of terror. There flashed
across Fanny's mind all the southern
folklore she had heard about the mys-
teries Of quicksand. She remembered
her old "mammy's" story of her child
who had been drawn down into treach-
and hungry sands which en-
Draced it like a devil fish and crushed
the life out OF it. She struggled to dis
herself; threw her arms wildly
hither and thither; she was sinking; Of
hat she was certain.
The vision of the bright spring morn
ing and the smiling flowers and myriad
glittering in the joyous sun;
the merry throng in the woods; Irene
laughing in indolescent redundancy;
all this passed before her like a beauti-
ful dream.
Renwlck Nichels had, at first, laughed
and extended his hand, thinking lightly
If her cry. He had heard girls shrek
when treading upon toads or when get
ing their feet wet. Fanny grasped
nis hand with a desperation that
frightened him. He took her by both
Ter arms and essayed to draw her to
irmer ground; but it was useless; his